First, embroiled in conflict within an unhallowed, forgotten cathedral in the depths of the Nyella ocean…and now wandering the streets of a curs-ed city. Unwittingly from the frying pan, and into the fire.
Story could not help but be amused by the reactions of passerby in this place, home to stalkers of the dark of all walks. They could sense that he was no man - but whatever their preternatural senses told them was clearly perplexing.
The dragon could also not help but wonder…how many vampires that dwelt here carried the blood of his brothers, diluted down through the ages? Their sin against creation was by no means to be the only one of its kind; there were other progenitors of the species, to be certain…
Drawing the hood of his long dark coat up, Story made his way down the poorly-cobbled paths towards the local tavern, careful not to brush too close to any he passed. His indigo gaze he deliberately cast to the ground whilst he assumed a slumped and unassuming posture. He was being pursued. There was no way to be sure how many cities this network of scholar-hunters operated in, for one. Another matter entirely was the council of Kurayo itself. If any of them were made aware of what he was, he did not know what sort of action would be taken. Many ages had passed, and Story had managed to go by as an unknown, mostly keeping to himself until recently.
Word of ancient cathedrals surfacing from the ocean, and dragons dueling against the backdrop of a stormy sky tended to travel quickly, spread by terrified sailors.
"Tell us where he is.."
Chancing by an alley, Story paused when he heard these words. Dark goings on were no secret in Kurayo. Given the chasms between the ruling parties, however, everyone knew the who's who and what's what. Dealings were rarely done in the open. Something about the urgency behind the demand he'd overheard seemed out of place.
Upon investigation, he silently cursed himself. There was a group of men harassing a young girl and a wolf, which appeared to be her charge, the way it defensively growled and placed itself between her and the men. These men were unmistakable by their garb. He recognized the tan with gold embroidery of their coats, and the emblem of the owl-headed phoenix which they wore. Story knew that he had to intervene, or they would take this girl prisoner, or worse.
"You needn't question la fille any further, Hunter," Story's deep, thickly-accented voice reverberated through the alley as he stepped into view. He paced about the broken circle of them all, joining the wolf in a protective stance near the girl, his hand resting upon the pommel of an estoc at his side. "She truly knows not of what you speak. Here I am."
"Ah, Judicator Thorn. I-"
Story spat, cutting the man off. "Je deteste such antiquated titles. C'est inévitable. Your ignorance will be spared just this once."
"You've the blood of many on your hands, Judicator," the hunter persisted. "Not just of your own kind…but of humankind. You've been allowed to exist for far too long. You must answer for your crimes of tyranny and corruption. This thrall you have put under your spell will suffer with you, for there is no saving her now."
Story chuckled darkly. "You, who insist upon digging up old bones, on knowing history know who I am…yet still you know not what you do or of what you speak. She and I are not even acquainted…if you wish to know what sort of judgement I am capable of passing, however, try me…You shan't harm a hair on her head, or her companion's."
At these words, the men drew their swords, the sound of which attracted the attention of a passing drow pikeman. Several more folk gathered, and another guardsman began to shed his human form upon witnessing the confrontation, letting his lycanthropy take hold…